


Bitter

by EmyBunny, SilenceNorth



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Horror, One Shot, Porn, Screenplay/Script Format
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-06 03:19:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15877428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmyBunny/pseuds/EmyBunny, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilenceNorth/pseuds/SilenceNorth
Summary: You're not in Kansas anymore, and you soon begin to realize that your Knight in Shining Armor has more skeletons in his closet than a CVS on Thanksgiving.





	Bitter

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, what is this exactly?  
> It's rather boring, isn't it?  
> In fact, this is a script in the visual novel/ horrorporn "dating sim" I'm currently in the middle of. I affectionately refer to it as "The Vanilla Route".  
> In the actual VN, you meet Danny, a lonely man in the middle of nowhere, and you begin to put together his tragic story even as he systematically kills and tortures you.  
> This was inspired by the Boyfriend to Death Visual Novels, which I had a lot of fun with.  
> This is the tamest route, and so I thought it'd be fun to put that in first while I let the rest of it crumble like a landslide around the reader.
> 
> Interested? The link to the alpha version of the VN is on my profile page. Check it out!
> 
> WARNING: WHILE THIS ROUTE IS VANILLA, THE VN IS NOT. CONSIDER YOURSELF WARNED!  
> https://bitterone.weebly.com/

There was no moon, which meant it was dark as pitch as you wound through the forested country road.  
You knew you should have sprung for the deluxe oil change. One glance at your bank account at the time, however, said it would have to wait until next time.  
t’s always next time. Perhaps they could have caught whatever it is that is forcing the temperature gauge to dig beneath the big red H on the dial, to diagnose just what that acrid-smelling steam was that spilled from beneath the hood and into the passenger seat through the vents like some silent ghostly companion.  
It was a series of misfortunes that led you out into the place you were, at the time you were out there. A cruel collection of wrong turns, lost cell phone signals, and lack of attention had you not only lost, but far from anyone who could possibly be awake at this time.  
It was darker than the ass-side of the moon, the only light your own high-beams as they desperately choked through the gasses belching from behind the radiator.  
Vaguely, you wondered if they were flammable.

This day in age a woman should know more about how her car works. You were berating yourself out loud, as if to make sure the transcription of you life had it on permanent record that you knew you’d fucked up.  
The trees crowded in around you, choking the road in front of you, passing it back and forth, left and right, like a game meant to confuse you, keep you on your toes. You couldn’t speed up, not with the sharp turns, nor could you slow down, because the last thing you wanted to do was grind to a dead stop here, wherever here was.  
And then, as if fate had decided that you had suffered enough once your AC began to blow heat instead of crisp, fresh air, the trees opened. Your car shot out into the midst of space like it’d been jettisoned, hurtling desperately towards the only sign of civilization within the observable reality.  
The gas station sat like an island of light in a bad dream. Two vehicles rested in the parking spaces, leaving the pumps open, but you felt like an empty gas tank is the least of your problems.  
Once more, you glanced at your phone.  
No service.  
The mountains would have something to do with that.  
The gas station would have a landline. Who would you even call at this time of night?  
Your car seemed to collapse in exhaustion as you steered it to crawl into a parking space, hissing with agony and ticking like a slowing heartbeat.  
You supposed if all else failed you could sleep in the car and call someone in the morning.  
It wouldn’t be the first time you'd car-camped.  
You scoped the place out before opening the door. Everything was well-lit and clean, but that hardly meant anything.  
You grabbed the pocket knife out of your middle console, where you’d kept it for emergencies like dirty nails or stubborn plastic packaging.  
You slipped it into your pocket as you walked up to the store, keeping your gait from revealing just how much you wanted to be inside something that represented civilization.  
The door was like an alarm going off as it dinged, announcing your presence. There was no music inside the small store, only the hum and sizzle of blistered, sorry-looking wieners rolling as if in pain on the rotating heater made just for the torture of tubular-shaped meats.  
You were thankful you couldn’t smell them.  
You pretended to peruse the refrigerator, pulling out a can of something obscure that you know you only grabbed because it was colorful. It might have even had alcohol.  
Perhaps that wouldn’t be a bad idea if you had to spend the night in your back seat.  
Finally you turned to the cashier and winced inwardly. He was neither approachable or friendly-looking. His greasy hair was pulled into a ponytail, but he had more covering his neck than on the top of his head.  
The stubble on his double chin looked like it was trying to cover up an Adam’s apple that looked halfway to germinating beneath his unsettling grin.  
His hands were too soft, for some reason pudgier than the rest of him.  
You had to force myself to ask him for a phone while he rang up your drink.  
Tony: "What's wrong with yours? You kids always have a phone around."  
"No service," you offered with a shrug and what you hoped was a disarming chuckle. "Technology, right?"  
Tony: "Well how about that. Yeah, sure, I’ve got a phone. What’s in it for me?"  
He leered at you in just the way you hoped he wouldn’t. His words made you want to throw up all over his smug grin. He wasn't furtive about the way his eyes were crawling all over you.  
You took your drink and stalked towards the exit. He called after you in a jeering tone.  
Tony: "I was kidding! What, can’t take a joke?"  
You’d have to figure something else out.  
You climbed into your car, which had boiled up to the comfortable temperature of smoldering thermite. In moments you felt like one of the wieners endlessly spinning on the torture rack.  
You tried to sleep, even going as far as to crack open the windows, but more often than not you would jolt awake in a sea of sweat. You had to get out of there.  
That’s when you saw the cashier at the door to the convenience store, smoking his cigarette. The look on his face when he saw you sitting in your dead car made the hair on your arms stand on end.  
You shrank down in your seat as he reached to the crotch of his greasy jeans to readjust himself before beginning to saunter in your direction.  
Your hand found the bulk of the knife folded in your pocket...  
Light flooded the gas station as a truck pulled up to the pump. You sagged in relief as the cashier scowled and retreated back to the store like an eel into its den, his eyes on you nearly the entire time.  
A man jumped out of the truck to refuel, and to your dismay, you saw him use a credit card. He will be gone in moments and the eel will once more feel free to slither back in your direction.

Quickly, you opened your car door and walked towards the man, trying to ignore the sweat dripping off your nose.  
"You could feel the cashier’s eyes on you the whole time, feel them seething with whatever sort of emotion that fuels creatures like him.  
"Excuse me," you attempted politely, though all you really wanted to do was dive into his truck and crank the AC to eleven.  
He looked up with surprise. A third shifter, you could see it in his eyes. He needed a vacation, a good long weekend full of beer and sweet, sweet slumber.  
He wasn’t an ugly man by any reach of the word, with dark eyes under dark brows with even darker circles beneath them  
His brown hair was non-regulation length, barely able to be tugged back into a tie, most of it spilling free and stringy with the humidity.  
He hadn’t shaved for several days. The surprise melted into suspicion, and he readied himself for the long con.  
"I was just wondering if your phone had service. I’m trying to call my… my boyfriend…” There, that should make him think someone would be looking for you if you went missing.  
And that you were not trying to pick him up.  
He studied you for a moment, then those dark eyes saw your car beyond your shoulder. The cashier watching from behind the counter. This guy wasn't not stupid. He saw what was going on.  
He had been here before.  
You didn’t know whether to melt in relief or shatter into a thousand pieces at his next words.  
Danny: "No phone. But I can take you to one. We’re not that far. Hop in."  
Like a Labrador promised a trip to the beach, you jogged around to the passenger side of the truck.  
You tried to ignore the shotgun mounted on the back window. People hunt. Besides, at least it was out in the open.  
Hardly the creepiest thing you’ve seen that night.  
The stranger finishes buying his gas before climbing into the driver’s seat without a glance back towards the shop.  
You sighed with relief at the blast of cold air from the air conditioner, your eyes closing.  
He reached over to turn the vents more towards you, and that’s when you dared to hope that maybe, for once, you hadn’t made the dumbest decision possible.  
"I owe you bigtime," you said with a sigh.

You woke with a start, because somewhere in the back of your mind you knew you should be driving, and sleeping and driving never mix well.  
But you were still very much on the road, a road that you could see in both the headlights and the faint blue of dawn.  
You remembered suddenly where you were, and with confusion you looked to the man in the driver’s seat. Had he forgotten about you?  
"Sorry, didn’t mean to fall asleep," you said, your eyes on the road as you tried to figure out how far you’d gone.  
"I thought you said we didn’t have to go far?"  
He looked at you with a little frown, almost apologetic in his expression.  
Danny: "Place was closed."  
He didn’t offer much more than that, and suddenly you felt a bit uneasy. There was something in his expression that didn’t seem right.  
He looked so tired.  
"Are you okay to drive?" you ventured, suddenly realizing that he could possibly be drunk.  
You took a deep whiff but smelled no alcohol. "Did you just get off of work or…?"  
He didn’t offer an ending to your sentence, and just when your alarm bells began to ring, he spoke.  
Danny: "Sorry. Maybe not. I haven’t slept in a long time. Will you talk with me awhile, keep me awake?"  
Your anxiety dissipated, and you felt inexcusably rude for falling asleep and forcing him to drive in silence.  
You felt your cheeks heating. "Of course. Thanks for showing up when you did. That guy was seriously creeping me out."  
Danny: "He should. He was just released from prison for…"  
The man glanced at you.  
Danny: "Various things. He only works there because it’s his brother’s shop. Scumbag like him will be back in the system in weeks the way he’s going."  
"You live around here? Sorry, you don’t have to answer that.”  
You told him what had happened to your car. He didn’t look surprised. In fact, he had only one expression, and it was numbness.  
You found yourself continuing for the sake of conversation, careful not to let anything too personal slip. He seemed more interested in listening than speaking up himself, but you’d been that tired before.  
You knew it was harder to speak than to stay silent.  
"So where are we going?"  
He seemed startled by the question, as if surprised you didn’t already know.  
Danny: "My place. I live a few miles out this way."  
You were taken aback. The casual way he said it made it seem as though it was hardly a big deal, and people went to His Place all the time and it didn’t sound at all like the ending of a third date or the beginning of a one night stand.  
He glanced at you when you didn’t respond.  
Danny: "There’s a telephone there. It’s the closest one I know of. Sorry."  
His deadpan voice made you wonder if he even had considered how desperately stupid you had been to trust a stranger out in the middle of nowhere.  
But you couldn’t help giving him the benefit of the doubt.  
He looked like the only fantasies he had going through his mind involve pillows, silence, and light dampening curtains.  
"Okay.\" You hear yourself saying, sinking a little down in the seat, preparing yourself for whatever fate awaited you ahead on the road, and knowing that it couldn’t be nearly as bad as what you left.

The small farmhouse was almost exactly what you imagined you would find at the end of the gravel road.  
Parts of it looked old, while other pieces had been newly built and slapped with a fresh coat of white paint.  
Unsurprisingly, you didn’t see any other vehicles."  
"So what did that man do? The one at the gas station?"  
Danny: "Tony..."  
He put the car into park, frowning down at the steering wheel.  
Danny: "Well, you know the law. A man is innocent until proven guilty. But some of us... we know. He served his time, but that little girl's never gonna be the same. They had to move far, far away."  
Your skin crawled. "He raped a child?"  
Danny: "Not according to the courts."  
The man yanked the keys out of the ignition and climbed out of the car without a further word.  
You looked at the man again as he slid from the car. He wasn’t bad looking and old enough to have found been married by now, you could only imagine that the situation might be volatile, so you didn’t press the issue.  
You slid out of the passenger side and walked after him, looking around quickly.  
There were many different flowering plants, even a garden, but it was overgrown and unkempt.  
His wife’s perhaps.  
Ex wife?  
He hadn’t cared enough about them to keep them tidy. In fact, he didn’t look at them at all as he passed by, making a beeline for the house.  
You followed after him like a confused puppy. You tried to call after him, but realized you had no idea what name to call.  
"Hey, what’s your name anyway?" you asked as you climbed the steps to his house.  
"I feel weird going into a house of someone I don’t even know the name of. I’m Fiona."  
He actually opened the door for you, and you were surprised enough to hesitate.  
Danny: "You can call me Danny."  
You nodded and stepped into the cool, dark farmhouse.  
The first thing you noticed was that there was no air conditioning. Fans were spinning slowly on the ceilings, doing little but stirring the dust in the air.  
Other fans stood like silent observers in each room, their faces pointed towards different chairs and seats made of wood.  
You hoped you wouldn’t have to stay long in this place. It was too quiet.  
Danny: "Stay here."  
Danny stepped past you as he walked into another room. You felt almost safer knowing he didn’t want you wandering deeper into his home.  
If he was private, he wouldn’t want you here very long either. You nodded and for the first time you noticed his scar.  
He’d been keeping that side of his face from you, where he’d at one point been torn open from next to his nose to his ear. Whoever had stitched him up had done an excellent job.  
You half wanted to tell him it wasn’t something he felt he needed to hide, but you knew that would be too personal to talk about.  
You’d just met the man.  
You shifted your weight uneasily as you waited for him, straining to hear where he might be. But there was nothing, not even the creak of old floorboards as he moved.  
You could feel sweat breaking out on your forehead as you stood in the stuffy walkway, and nothing looked more appealing than the fan just through the doorway to your right.  
It was just a few steps. Surely that’d be okay.  
But walking around another person’s house without their permission, especially after he told you to stay put, just seemed rude.  
Instead, you leaned against the doorway, glancing back outside as you crossed my arms under your chest.  
The sky was dark and you could see clouds hanging, and you watched as a soundless crack of lightning scattered across them. Ah… that would be just your luck. It was going to storm.  
Not the raining sort of storming, though. Just the dry crackling kind that threatened rain that would never come.  
Danny returned and nearly startled you with his sudden appearance. You even yelped when he cleared his voice before beginning to speak.  
Danny: "Jumpy?"  
His face held the slightest hint of humor and you gave a nervous little laugh, pushing your hair out of your face.  
"Dude… you can’t sneak up on a girl like that." You shifted to pull yourself away from the wall, but kept yourself between the door and him. "So… uh, phone?"  
He gave you an odd look, as if he’d forgotten. Then his eyebrows raised.  
Danny: "The storm killed the landlines. Happens all the time out here. Might be down until morning."  
You sighed, slumping your shoulders. "Fuck. I guess I should have asked you if you knew anything about cars. You wouldn’t happen to…?"  
He chuckled.  
Danny: "I can keep a truck going, but I don’t work with automatics."  
So he knew your car with an automatic just by looking at it, meaning he knew cars. At least a little. But you weren’t going to fight it."  
Honestly, you were exhausted and this night felt like it was going to be a damn long one."  
"Would it be absolutely terrible of me to ask if I can crash on your couch until morning? And uh, if you have work in the morning, maybe you can just drive me back into town when everything is open."  
It was a risky request and he seemed genuinely surprised by it.  
Danny: "That works out for me."  
You perked a little in hope.  
Danny: "I have a guest bedroom you can stay in. But first… have you eaten?"  
He began to take off his coat as he started towards the kitchen, flicking on lights as he went. It seemed to make the house a little less creepy. More like going to your grandparents.  
You followed after him eagerly. "I’m starving. Been on the road all day. Only stopped at a McDonald's to get a cheeseburger, which… isn’t much. But hey, that’s the college student diet!"  
You made myself comfortable at the table as he went to a pantry, glancing over boxes of pasta and cans of different vegetables.  
Danny: "College student, huh? What are you studying?"  
You note the exhaustion in his voice, but he’s still attempting conversation, so that’s good. At least you weren’t entirely annoying this poor man. You knew you had a habit of talking someone’s ear off.  
"Nursing."  
Danny's interest seemed piqued.  
Danny: "Is that so? Good for you. Very good. Medicine is always important, but it's just as important to know how a body works."  
You tapped your fingers on your lap, unable to quit moving. You were jittery now after your short nap and maybe because you knew you’d be able to get some sleep tonight in an actual bed and not your car.  
"Yep! It's a lot of work, but it's really something I love, so it can be fun sometimes."  
He brought a can of corn and hash browns out of the pantry, setting them onto the counter before going to the fridge, opening up the freezer."  
You folded your arms across the table, only noting afterwards the amount of dust marring the surface. So he must be a busy guy, maybe even someone who sits in front of the tv to eat instead of at the table. You could relate.  
He pulled a hunk of meat from the freezer and started to take out pans. Part of you wondered if he was just gonna make a mish mash of the three things. He seemed like the type of guy who would do that, but you were too damn hungry to care.  
Danny: "What are you doing all the way out here?"  
"Visiting a friend..."  
Danny slowed, glancing over his shoulder at you.  
Danny: "Right... your boyfriend? You mentioned him earlier..."  
Oh right, you had. You'd mentioned your fake boyfriend in the hopes of rescue.  
"I don't actually... have one. I was just hoping you wouldn't see me as some kind of creep."  
For whatever reason, that made him clam up and you sank into this uncomfortable silence as he started cooking. You tried not to watch him, occasionally taking your phone out of your pocket to check for some sort of signal.  
Not only was there no signal, but your phone was on two percent battery life. Fuck. You hadn’t grabbed your charger in your rush to get help.  
"Uh… do you have a phone charger by any chance?"  
He glanced at your phone.  
Danny: "No. I don’t have any fancy ‘smart phone’ like you kids these days."  
You didn’t miss the mocking tone he had and your could only assume he meant that as a playful comment, though it was so hard to read him with those tired eyes and his deep voice that hardly had any sort of emotional lilt.  
"Hey now, we kids know that these things can do a lot of amazing things. Like texting and taking photos."  
You tossed your phone a little from your hand, but instead of catching it like you had so smoothly planned, it tumbled onto the table. Your cheeks heated.  
"B-bet your phone couldn’t do that."  
He seemed for a second genuinely amused, then his face turned serious once more. He plopped the mish mash of food into a bowl and walked over to put it in front of you.  
Danny: "Stop trying to break your phone and eat."  
"Thank you,” you offered in return. Then you noticed he hadn’t made himself a bowl. "Are… you going to eat?"  
Danny: "In a second. I have to grab something."  
When you frowned slightly, he noted your discomfort.  
Danny: "Just some antacids for this old man without his ‘hip’ phone."  
You actually laughed. "Did you really just say 'hip'? I’m kidding, dude. Jeez…"  
He left you alone at the table and for a moment you wonder if youd’d actually offended him somehow. You shook it off, however, growing used to the aching silence of the house.  
You were too distracted by the food in front of you. You wouldn’t have put corn and hash browns together, but who were you to judge when you was this starved?  
You dug in.  
When Danny returned, he seemed a little more relaxed. Maybe the guy really needed to take his antacids. Hey, we’ve all been there. Though typically for you it was after a night of getting blackout drunk.  
He grabbed a bowl of food and you sat in silence for a long time. It wasn’t until you was finished that he tried to make short conversation.  
Danny wasn’t a bad guy, you decided. He seemed like someone who had gotten out of the military and decided to settle down in some old farmhouse. Maybe he inherited it from family.  
You didn’t ask though, afraid of offending him and possibly making things more awkward. It didn't help that he was damned decent to look at.  
It was late, so he showed you to your room. You tried to ignore the odd smell in the hall as he led you to the guest bedroom.  
You couldn’t name what it was, but it gave you the creeps and you were reminded once more that you were in a stranger’s house.  
You said your goodnights and you sat down on the bed, glancing around. It was just as musty as the rest of the house, obviously unused.  
It hardly had any sort of personality, the picture frames only holding paintings of scenery or flowers. The bed was comfy enough, though.  
You stripped down to your underwear and tanktop, the fan on the ceiling doing very little to cool the room. God, it was so fucking hot.  
Thunder rumbled dry and thick outside.  
You tried to lay still in order to keep yourself cool, but the fact that you were in a strange house did very little to calm you.  
You kept shifting, rolling over again and again until you were sighing with frustration.  
You had to pee and Danny hadn’t shown you the bathroom. You’d have to find it yourself.  
Reluctantly, you pulled on your pants and made your way out of the room, glancing down the hall for any sound.  
Danny must’ve been asleep.  
You crept out of the room and tiptoed down the hall to one of the two doors.  
Your hand paused on the second door, the smell stronger down here.  
It was coming from the last door. It was so bad that your stomach churned.  
It was none of your business and you knew it. It was bad enough you were walking through this stranger’s house without his permission.  
Carefully, you opened the door you had your hand on.  
You muttered a curse to see it was another bedroom and not the bathroom at all. Before you could close the door, you heard a rustling.  
When your eyes adjusted to the dark, you saw Danny slipping out of the bed, rubbing at his face.  
He had on a pair of pajama pants and his hair was loose. A set of dog tags dangled on his bare, wide chest. You felt your mouth drop open briefly as you forgot to back out of the room.  
Danny: "Fiona....Is everything okay?"  
He swiped a hand back through his hair as he looked at you curiously, stifling a yawn.  
You swallowed hard.  
"I'm afraid of thunder."  
You're not sure what prompted the lie, but you heard it escape your lips anyway.  
Danny looked at you from beneath his tightened brows. He seemed a little confused, suspicious but not entirely sure you are lying either.  
"Can... I...?"  
You stepped into the room, closing the door behind you. It thrust the room into darkness. You were not really sure you liked that. Danny looked... good without his shirt on. More than good.  
You sort of wanted more light to see him.  
Danny: "Fiona..."  
He looked unsure, but that only seemed to make him more attractive to you. Why were you so worried in the first place?  
You slid up to him, more than a little aware of his eyes on your chest, the way you must look in your underwear from the waist up. You wondered if he found you as attractive as you found him.  
Up close, you could smell him. A smoker, but just often enough for the scent of tobacco to linger in certain movements. He smelled like toothpaste otherwise, of hard days and no sleep. Of metal.  
He watched you as you looked up at his face, your eyes lingering on the scar that split him from his nose to his ear.  
He seemed to sense the question was coming before you even began to speak.  
Danny: "Friendly fire."  
Stunned, you can only look up at him in pity. How could such a thing have happened?  
It looked nothing like a bullet wound. It was a clean cut, and had to have been made by a blade. Was he lying?  
Danny: "Don't... look at me like that."  
You wanted to get the slightly hurt expression off of his face. You wondered how soft his lips were."  
Almost carefully, you leaned up to brush your own against his. At first he didn't react."  
You parted your lips and let your hand find the hair at the back of his head, drawing him into a deeper kiss that he began to respond to, slowly at first, and then gathering momentum when he found you open to it.  
You let your body press against his. He felt good, hard and thick and warm from sleep, and he was {b}good{/b} at kissing. It was almost like you could feel his lips on every part of you. Even his stubble didn't feel bad on your skin.  
It made you forget for a moment that he was a stranger. Just a lonely, quiet man who desperately needed a break. You wanted to give him that vacation.  
He rolled with you into the bed, his lips already pressing hungrily to your jaw, your neck as he pressed you down into the mattress. A roll of thunder rumbled as you wrapped your legs around his waist.  
You pushed him up and away from you to tug open the button to your jeans, but he pushed your hands away and tugs them off himself, leaning down to taste your skin as each inch was exposed.  
He threw your clothes to the floor as he pulled them off, leaving you bare in his arms, his mouth hungrily roving over your skin. He left wet, open-mouthed kisses down over your chest.  
When his teeth closed over the top of your breast, you gasped with the pain of it.  
You arched your back against him, encouraging him to be rough. He growled against your skin, seeming to relax, and then he pushes up and away from you.  
Gathering your wrists above your head, he captured you lips in a rough kiss, and his other hand slid beneath your thigh.  
He dragged your leg up, pressing it against your ribs, crushing the breath from you as he shoved his hips hard against your own. You squirm beneath him, letting him know with your sounds that you want more.  
When he broke the kiss and you gasped for breath, you felt his hand slide between you, and in the next moment he was filling you with a rough push. It drove the breath from your lungs once more, leaving you dizzy.  
He was thick and deep, giving you no time to recover before he began to move, holding you open, folding you against yourself.  
He doesn't let you have your hands back, but you don't mind at all, your focus entirely on the space between your legs, the way his belly slides against yours.  
He huffed his breath against your cheek, his nose pressed against your face there, his whole body a knot of muscle and heat as he moved.  
Danny: "Mmn... tight.."  
He was right, everything was magnified and slick and hot, the thrill of not knowing him, not sure what he'll do next only getting you high.  
As his intensity rose, he pushed up away from you, his hand sliding around your throat as he used the grip as leverage.  
You gasped for breath, your hands freed, grasping at his wrists. The pressure felt good, almost too good.  
His hair hung over his face, his thumb on your artery as he watched your gasping lips. His own lips were parted around his teeth as he panted, thrusting into you over and over.  
You felt a drop of sweat fall from his nose and onto your chin, but you didn't fight him. You were too concentrated on the build of pressure, the bubble of pleasure in your belly.  
In moments you were hitting your orgasm, struggling in his strong grip as you thrashed with pleasure, silent with your breathless moans. He panted over you, riding you through it.  
You didn't even care when he came with you, shoving you down onto his cock, filling you with heat that made your bodies clash with soft, wet sounds, slowing as you came down.  
Carefully, he unwrapped his hands from around your throat, supporting himself by pressing his hands against the mattress on either side of your head.  
You gulped a breath, your vision clearing, though it was hazy pink. "Ohh...."  
He leaned down, as if realizing what he'd been doing. He pressed a gentle kiss to your neck.  
Danny: "Sorry... I.... get carried away..."  
You were barely able to emit a chuckle. "It's okay. I'm a big girl, I can take it," you promised.  
To your surprise, he leaned down and curled his arms around you, giving you a tight squeeze. The embrace felt good.  
He pulled you back against the mattress, panting, wordless, and the fan above you struggled to cool your throbbing bodies as you drifted off into a thunder-soothed sleep.  
When you woke up the next morning, you found Danny at the open window, smoking a cigarette as he looked out over the pale dawn.  
"Did you sleep?" You found yourself asking, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. Your body ached in such a good way.  
He looked at you with those tired, tired eyes and just smiled a little.  
Danny: "Let's get you back where you belong.  
You weren't sure how you felt about that. Was he trying to get rid of you? Did he regret last night?  
You slid out of bed and started to gather together your clothes, attempting to tame your wild hair. Your lips felt bruised from his kisses, your thighs ached where he'd gripped them.  
Danny was already dressed, so he waited patiently for you, finishing his cigarette and flicking it out into the morning dew.  
Danny: "You mind helping me with some chores before we hit the road?"  
You were struck with surprise. Who has a one night stand and then asks for manual labor the next day? It was so unexpected that you barked a laugh."  
"Does this mean we're going steady?" you teased as you pulled on your shoes.  
Danny: "Going steady? Wow. I was supposed to be the old one, remember?"  
You liked the way he smiled as the two of you went outside.  
You spent the morning helping Danny, but in reality he let you enjoy the more relaxing moments of being on a farm while he did the most work.  
The chickens seemed happy to see the two of you, following closely around their enclosure as the two of you fed them and collected eggs.  
At one point, a trio of barn kittens arrived, screaming their greetings in high-pitched pleas for attention, and you had no issue keeping them entertained while Danny refilled troughs with food and water.  
Danny: "Want one?"  
You laughed. "Maybe. Hold one for me?" It was a promise of something more, a suggestion that you'd be back.  
You got the little smile you were looking for on his face as he worked.  
When it was time to leave, the drive back to town was silent but peaceful. You didn't have a chance to enjoy the scenery the night before, and now you rested with your forehead against the window, watching it all pass.  
You'd already contacted the towing company, they had your car waiting at their shop. You were glad you didn't have to go back to that gas station.  
When Danny pulled up at the shop, he put the car in park, and for a moment he sat, not sure what to say.  
You did, however.  
Reaching out, you slid the piece of paper you'd written your contact info on into his hand. He looked at it in surprise.  
"Call me?" You offered with a grin, and to your delight, he turned to kiss you briefly, chastely. He let it linger.  
Then he leaned back and pulled off his dog tags. You froze as he slipped them over your head.  
Danny: "Good luck with school..."  
The look on his face suggested that it wasn't a goodbye. You felt light as you slipped out of the car and waved at him as he pulled away. Something told you you hadn't seen the last of Danny.

YOU SURVIVED!


End file.
